


A Capriccio

by ZinidyneZidane



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), M/M, Manikin - Freeform, NSFW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24681637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZinidyneZidane/pseuds/ZinidyneZidane
Summary: Zidane is stressed out about an unusual Manikin that seems to be spying on him. To make matters worse, it's the spitting image of one of his more mysterious teammates, and the implications are starting to mess with his head. Gift for Visceralrose! ♡
Relationships: Kuja & Zidane Tribal, Kuja/Zidane Tribal
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Visceralrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Visceralrose/gifts).



> Hope you like smut because that's basically what this is in its purest, distilled form. I like the idea of Zidane struggling with his gay urges. So sue me.
> 
> Special thanks to @Visceralrose for dreaming up Maniku. ;)
> 
> Liberties are taken with the plot of Dissidia Final Fantasy since it is an incoherent mess, anyway. It doesn't follow any particular game or timeline and will at times mix several things at once.
> 
> For more, visit me at http://zinidyne-zidane.tumblr.com where I roleplay as this monkey.

Zidane had always been the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve. Sometimes however, he wished that weren’t the case. Things would be so much easier if he weren’t betrayed at every turn by his own comically visible anxieties. He struggled so to keep his composure, stay focused on the task at hand, and avoid the concern of his companions. So far, Bartz and Squall had taken his reassurances at face value and let it slide.

After all, it was easy to tell that all of the warriors who had been brought to this strange realm had questions and concerns, which is why he had probably gotten away with it for as long as he had. It was Zidane’s saving grace in a world designed entirely to torment them. Ironically, he could only wish that his anxieties were rooted in the constant turmoil between the warriors of Cosmos and Chaos. Zidane’s unique problem had begun soon after the collective struggle between good and evil had already begun.

The first time Zidane noticed something noticeably off was following a clash against a group of vicious Manikins, crystalline foes created from the memory of the warriors that had been brought into the world. While most of them reflected the visage of familiar faces, all bore the same frightening bloodlust for those made of flesh. Zidane hated these Manikins with a passion, for nothing was more unsettling than running into oneself on the battlefield. One-on-one Manikins weren’t all that difficult to destroy, but they always seemed to swarm like bees and attack when he least expected it, and they were about as numerous. For a time, Zidane had almost been too nervous to venture out on his own for fear of them; but he was a little too hard headed for his own good at times. Zidane really didn’t want to be the skittish, yellow-bellied type in front of the ladies, after all.

Having been left barely standing following the skirmish in question, Zidane had caught sight of a lone Manikin in the distance watching silently. Hovering without concern out in the open, dead, gleaming eyes simply watching as he caught his breath and climbed to his feet. The thief recognized the Manikin almost immediately, and for a moment he had actually mistaken it for Kuja. After the initial shock had passed upon that realization, Zidane was half expecting the creature to attack at any given moment, and yet within moments it had made a swift escape.

Maybe it was smart enough not to want it’s ass kicked, too.

That wouldn’t be the last time he’d come across that Manikin, however. The second time Zidane encountered him, it had come as a great shock. At the time, Zidane had nearly been struck by one of the crystalline adversaries as his back was turned, and without warning there came the same mysterious Manikin to vaporize his foe with blinding magic. The blast had knocked Zidane onto the ground, and when the dust had settled, Kuja’s Manikin stood over him with the same dead stare as before without a single utterance. Zidane couldn’t help but feel fearful of it, for they were as dangerous as they were unpredictable. He remembered barely hearing Squall calling out to him amid the fearful beat of his own heart, but the creature swiftly escaped before Squall could come to his aid.

Zidane reeled from the confusion for a few more moments before he was helped to his feet.

These two encounters with Kuja’s Manikin were enough to cause Zidane great concern at the time, though admittedly his curiosity was growing, too. He’d never heard any of the other warriors of Cosmos mention a less-than-hostile Manikin before and he was too nervous to ask about it without causing a stir among them. He had decided that until he figured out what was going on, he was going to keep quiet about it. 

On top of those concerns, he wondered why it had to be one of Kuja’s Manikins, of all people.

Kuja was something of a mystery to him, although Zidane had no real reason to distrust him. Every encounter he’d ever had with Kuja was about as abrupt and confusing. The man was on another level entirely, that much was clearly obvious. Something about the way he carried himself let Zidane and the others know right away that he was entirely in his element-- and that revelation alone was unsettling in and of itself. Kuja didn’t seem the least bit concerned about their circumstances, and was in fact quite calm and cunning in his plan of execution. From what Zidane knew of him so far, there was very little reason to suspect that Kuja’s Manikin could be anything less than ruthless itself.

It was no mystery then that these Manikins were constructed of memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update soon if I get some good feedback. I have more chapters ready to go. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

When it came to exploration, Zidane couldn’t help but notice the emptiness that surrounded him. Each place he found himself in his quest for a crystal was devoid of life, strange fragments of memory that felt cold and obligatory, placed with little care for the appeasement of all actors involved. Zidane couldn’t help but feel trapped, forced into the situation with no say at all, his own memories an indecipherable fog. He wanted more than anything to help the others in any way he could, but at times he felt like he was making no progress at all.

His eyes trailed along the windswept landscape following a defeated sigh. He should be grateful that he hadn’t been ambushed by Kefka or any of the other nutcases on the side of Chaos. Keeping his focus at times like this was difficult, if not impossible. Maybe, deep down, there was a part of him that enjoyed the struggle presented to them.

The thought alone frustrated him, enough so that when he inevitably ran into another group Manikins, he smashed them into pieces in record time. Granted, he’d overexerted himself in doing so, but it felt good to teach them a lesson. Maybe his efforts, no matter how valiant or well intentioned, were completely pointless. After all, for every one of these beings he destroyed, it seemed like two more took its place like an annoying, soulless hydra.

Everything hurt, yet it was a stinging reminder of just how important it was that he find a crystal and soon. Every minute he spent screwing off was an opportunity for a dangerous adversary to show themselves and harm him. Zidane needed to keep his wits about him if he were going to make out of this in one piece.

As though his thoughts had betrayed him, Zidane heard a distorted, contemplative hum droll out from behind, a sound that made the fur on his tail bristle as he spun around with his daggers ready to strike.

“You again…!” Zidane blurted out angrily as he faced a familiar, troublesome Manikin.

The Manikin seemed unimpressed, not that any of them seemed particularly capable of showing any emotion. Its eyes scanned the ground inspecting the shattered remnants of its peers with little concern for its own safety, which only agitated Zidane anymore.

“I’m getting real sick of you following me arou--!” Zidane was interrupted by the blank stare that suddenly pinned him under the weight of its eerie emptiness. Sharp, crackling footsteps rang out as it approached him as it stepped all over the shattered remains of the others that had been destroyed just moments ago.

Still unsure of the creature’s intentions, Zidane’s heart raced and he visibly flinched when it was close enough to reach out to him. Without quite thinking it through, Zidane dropped one of his daggers so that he could grasp the creature’s wrist inches from his face.

“Don’t even think about it!” he warned, seeing absolutely no change whatsoever in that cold, blank expression of his. Those eyes felt as though they were staring right through him, doing nothing at all to calm the fearful thrum of his heart. These beings were dangerous, and letting this one so close was already a huge mistake. Something however had calmed the desire to cut the Manikin down, though Zidane wasn’t even sure what it was.

That moment of hesitation was exploited immediately. Kuja’s Manikin was alarmingly strong, easily manipulating the grip on his wrist by forcefully pulling it aside while his other hand found itself reaching for Zidane’s cheek. By then, Zidane had already let his second dagger join the other on the ground, instinctively trying to prevent what he thought for sure would be an attempt at strangling him. In some weird way, maybe it would have been better if the Manikin had tried to kill him. At least it would make sense.

Instead, the frightened thief was met with a gentle caress upon his face, sharp, crystalline fingers tracing the contour of his jaw. Undeterred by Zidane’s shaky grip, he continued to touch and run his fingers through the golden locks of the thief’s hair; a seemingly harmless gesture that did little to ease the tension throughout Zidane’s entire body. The thief couldn’t move in his confusion and lingering fear, fruitlessly searching the Manikin’s features for any hint of malice at all. Unsurprisingly, he was met with nothing other than the dead stare he’d always been given.

“What are you… doing?” Zidane asked no one in particular, unsure of whether the Manikin carried any real measure of sentience at all. With some reluctance he released his hold on the other, holding his hands out hesitantly should he need to remove himself.

“Shh…” it shushed him, those curious touches leading the Manikin’s hands just low enough to straighten out the dishevelled mess that had been made of his jabot.

Any hope at all that Zidane had made some sense of this went out the window. He couldn’t understand why a Manikin would be fixing up his hair and jabot instead of killing him. Though he was now less fearful than a moment ago, Zidane was overcome with pressing confusion. Peering down at the Manikin’s handiwork, his face was suddenly gripped none-too-gently and forced upwards to redirect his focus, an action that earned a yelp of pain as sharp claws dug into his already injured cheek.

As Zidane’s eyes widened and met the intense emptiness of the eyes before him, he was confronted with a single, possessive utterance.

“Mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update soon if I get some good feedback. I have more chapters ready to go. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Never once would Zidane have imagined that he would be praying to the gods themselves for an attack right about now. He could practically feel Kuja’s eyes staring a hole right through him and yet he was too nervous to confirm it for himself. Zidane knew Kuja enough to know he was already suspicious of him as of late. He couldn’t even bring himself to look Kuja in the eyes anymore. Not only was Zidane being stalked by one of his feelsy, possessive Manikins, he couldn’t shake the idea that there was something more to it.

“I don’t know why we can’t just do this now.” Zidane complained, “Let’s get them before they figure out what’s going on.”

It was a weak attempt at deflecting the conversation to something more controversial, and he just knew that somehow Kuja wasn’t buying it. Unfortunately, if that were the case, he certainly wasn’t letting on, adding to Zidane’s misery.

“Maybe he’s right.” Squall interjected, “Their army of Manikins are getting stronger and more numerous as time goes on… we can’t hold out forever.”

Oh good, he’d distracted them.

Since Manikins appeared to be fragments of memories, did that mean Kuja’s was acting out some strange behavior from another time? All that harmless, reverent touching, the silent stalking, that brazen declaration of ownership-- it was beginning to really mess him up. Maybe they had some connection neither one of them had figured out yet? Zidane didn’t want to think about something so embarrassing.

It couldn’t possibly be what it looked like.

No way.

“Zidane, are you alright?”

Zidane cringed inwardly at the thought of being caught spacing out yet again. He wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping everyone off his tail.

With a sigh he nodded and turned his attention back to the conversation. “I’m fine, it’s just… these Manikins are getting more brazen. In fact…” he began, hesitating the moment he realized everyone’s attention was on him. He needed to keep his mouth shut about that Manikin or everyone might think he was some kind of double agent. Maybe he might be? With his memories in shambles, he could very well be a warrior of Chaos. More things he’d rather not think about. “... it’s just… the battle’s not weighed in our favor. These things don’t attack the other guys, at least not that I’ve ever seen. They have an endless army! We’re going to get tired and screw up the longer we draw this out.”

His appeal seemed to be met with some agreement. Sooner or later, they needed to put an end to all of this so they could go home in peace.

Zidane couldn’t help but fall into an endless spiral of theories in his head. Anything and everything he could do to explain away the obvious passed through his mind, with some reaching comical levels of absurdity. Zidane was now very much aware that whether he was with his friends or on his own he was miserably distracted by the strange happenings of that world. For now however, they needed to seek out and take down some of the more prominent leaders of the opposition. 

Anything to get his mind off the awkward ideas floating about his head. As it just so happened, Zidane knew the perfect way to distract himself as they made their way towards their next exciting, if not dangerous mission.

Hanging out with Bartz was easily one of Zidane’s favorite parts about being stuck fighting on behalf of a couple of lazy deities. Sure what they were doing there was of paramount importance, but why be a wet blanket about it? Squall from day one was having none of Zidane’s antics, but Bartz was the kind of guy that fed into it and encouraged Zidane to loosen up. Without someone like Bartz around, Zidane would surely be swimming in a sea of brooding, silent edge lords, not to mention the cute ladies who would have no one to turn to for light hearted conversation. Zidane could not abide by that!

Now he wasn’t a complete screw off, so at least Zidane was responsible enough to fight for what was right and for the safety of his friends, but Bartz’ friendship meant more to him than maybe even he was aware. While Squall was the responsible one, the poor man, he was a good sport about letting the two of them have their own fun in a world of turmoil. Sometimes, Zidane even suspected that they were rubbing off on him, if only just a little bit.

The next phase of their journey was a pleasant one, and it had in fact served as a decent way to keep his mind off the many pressing questions that had been plaguing him. It worked for a time, in any case, but even the most patient of Manikins would demand his attention eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update soon if I get some good feedback. I have more chapters ready to go. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW warning!

Upon the ground of Pandemonium lay the jagged, glassy remains of a pair of mindless Manikins, one of which was one of the many Kuja variants he’d come across. He looked at the lifeless eyes, which didn’t look any different than when it was alive if he were being honest, and felt a twinge of guilt. The realization that he was even feeling guilty about it earned a groan of annoyance. Why did he even care? As far as he could tell, they were all varying degrees of insane outside the one weirdo that insisted on following him around.

Shaking his momentary sentiment away, he continued onward. It wasn’t his problem if he had to take out a hundred Manikins; he’d do it without hesitation if he knew it would keep the others safe. He’d take out his stalker too, if it came down to it. No problem.

Well, maybe calling it a stalker was a little harsh.

Zidane could just think of it as a really big fan! On second thought, that just made it weirder.

In any case, the others were closeby and he was responsible for letting them know the area was clear of any Big Bads, and he needed to get back quickly before they came looking. With how dangerous things had been getting, everyone was on edge and paranoid about the many traps they’d found in the form of tempting relics.

Before he’d rounded the corner the thief was violently shoved against the cold wall with a surprised yelp, his assailant’s knee pressing roughly between his knees and a familiar, cold hand gripping his face.

“Grrrr! Damn you!” Zidane spat at the Manikin before him when he realized who it was, “You trying to scare me to death, idiot?!” The sharp claws digging into his cheek was a frustratingly common greeting he’d come to tolerate, though most of the time he could manage to pry him off. “What’s wrong? Mad that I messed up your friend’s pretty face?”

That would explain the Manikin’s foul greeting, in any case. But Zidane could care less; those things were dangerous and needed to be culled as often as possible. So what if some of them looked the same?

Zidane’s question was met with a frustrated growl and a forceful angling of his face. It looked as though it was inspecting him-- possibly for injuries, and once it seemed satisfied that grip loosened to allow for a more thorough look about him.

“I’m fine.” Zidane insisted, squirming over it’s increasingly bold touch. Cold fingertips snuck under his shirt and guided it just high enough to expose a dark bruise near his hip, one he’d had for some time now, but the action was objectionable. “Hey, easy!” he scolded, even while that icy hand felt comforting against the wound. He was beginning to get too bold for Zidane’s liking.

Needless to say, it didn’t listen. Avaricious hands felt around as they pleased while he pressed Zidane further into the wall. The Manikin lifted the position of his knee, nudging just so with seemingly little desire for subtlety. Zidane knew very well where this was going. He couldn’t think with those cold hands crawling up inside his shirt and along his hips. Kuja’s Manikin might have even been enjoying itself, though it was difficult to say for sure; but there was no way it wasn’t keenly aware that it had Zidane’s head spinning. The moment Zidane felt his slick thumb glide against his nipple, he snapped out of his daze and squirmed away from his touch as far as he was able to with his back against the wall.

“A-Alright, that’s enough-- the others are gonna come looking for me, you get it?” he tried to warn him, only to be met with mocking, distorted laughter as the Manikin drew closer. “W-What’s so damn funny?”

“You… are mine.” it hummed maliciously in response.

“Yeah, you remind me every time you see me.” he replied sarcastically. He really needed to get away from him before anyone came calling. They were going to think it was trying to kill him.

So far, the petting hadn’t stopped, it had merely been redirected much to Zidane’s dismay. Kuja’s Manikin was close now; close enough that were he capable of breathing, Zidane may have even felt it against his skin as he watched him sink to his knees. When he felt a teasing bite against the flesh below his navel, Zidane felt his knees go dangerously weak.

“Damn it...” he hissed between his teeth. Zidane knew this was messed up beyond explanation. At the moment, he couldn’t even remember any of the myriad of reasons why, only that his belt was currently being undone and he needed to stop it from happening. His gloved hand gripped the Manikin roughly by his shimmering hair to pull him away, just not in time to prevent him from unzipping his pants and relieving the pressure that had been building up. It felt so good just then, and he hadn’t even been properly touched yet. Breathing hard, staring into those intensely sharp eyes, Zidane growled in defeat.

“Hurry up… finish before anyone sees you.” 

If Zidane had thought this Manikin was brazen before, he most certainly abandoned all pretense following that command. With a simple downward tug on his pants, Zidane was free from his prison of fabric, the heat of his arousal feeling incredible against the cool air surrounding him. Glassy hands began teasing him harder while the thief watched with reluctant interest as his dick was guided to the Manikin’s lips. 

The fact that the Manikin was the spitting image of Kuja did nothing at all to calm his aching erection. Those pretty lips engulfed him with unmerciful skill, making Zidane whimper audibly. The tight embrace was enough to make the thief fall weakly against the wall for support, his golden tail roughly swaying as he was overwhelmed by the sensation of that cold mouth against his hot flesh.

Kuja’s lips looked so good wrapped around him; there was no way Zidane could ever look at him the same way again after this. With every tilt of the Manikin’s head, every rough pull against his sack, Zidane was trying desperately to fantasize about anyone else sucking him off; but this was too hot a sight to deny.

At some point, Zidane completely forgot about keeping himself quiet. Kuja’s Manikin was getting more aggressive with every cute moan and defeated whine, encouraging the honesty with every lick and teasing nip of teeth. Zidane had never felt this good before, at least not that he could remember; and to find this kind of ecstasy in the midst of this endless purgatory was enough to make him rethink whether or not he’d found a little slice of heaven itself.

Desperate to use his hands, Zidane caressed the glassy feather atop the Manikin’s head and rolled his hips, encouraging him to go deeper still. Cool hands caressed his stomach only for his sharp nails to claw their way down, a pain that earned a pleasured yelp. There was no way he could last any longer at this rate, panting and moaning as he felt his body reaching the peak of absolute bliss.

“I’m close-- I’m so close…!” he whined pleasurably, offering as much warning as he possibly could muster, biting his lip as Kuja’s Manikin drew his teeth along the length of his dick and drew out thick spurts of cum into his mouth. Zidane’s body reacted shakily to his orgasm, the unexpected pain mixed with an intense release of pleasure had him crying out with barely contained bliss.

Partially melted into the wall, Zidane was having some trouble steadying himself. He was only partially aware of the Manikin standing to his feet and running his fingers through his hair. Oh, it felt so good, he couldn’t hide the appreciative purr that escaped his lips. Such a fleeting, gentle touch wasn’t for him to enjoy, it seemed. His hair was gripped tightly within the Manikin’s fist, pulled back without warning, a motion that drew a sharp yelp that was soon swallowed by a forceful kiss to his lips. 

While he hadn’t appreciated being manhandled in the least, Zidane found his sudden spark of anger doused by the unexpected meeting of lips. Within moments he relaxed into it, joining the Manikin in a unified, sensual moan as they shared in the taste of his hot cum. Zidane was hardly even allowed a breath until he’d licked the other’s tongue clean, and in his pleasured daze had hardly even wanted to stop, himself.

As he finally leaned away and against the wall, body tingling with the afterglow of an amazing orgasm, he found himself terribly disappointed in his complete lack of self control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update soon if I get some good feedback. I have more chapters ready to go. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't think of a more astute Final Fantasy villain than Kuja.
> 
> Unfortunately, Zidane doesn't realize just how screwed he is at this point. Nothing gets past Kuja's notice.

As time went on, the only time Zidane didn’t find himself thinking about that delicious tryst was when he was in the middle of a skirmish. No longer content to only send their Manikin lackeys, the agents of Chaos had begun attacking him and his friends directly and with far greater frequency. Thankfully this left Zidane with little time to be daydreaming about the Manikin. So far they had managed to stay one step ahead of their schemes thanks to Kuja’s continued advice. While his help was instrumental to their success, Zidane worried what his motivations really were at times. Kuja always seemed to be absent when the fighting began, returning to the stage after they’d all been beaten to a pulp…

Kuja was either up to something or he was a lazy jerk… neither of which would surprise him.

Zidane tended to his injuries as the team finally mustered together. The thief used his condition as an excuse to avoid conversation with the others. He was trying not to make it obvious that he was deliberately avoiding Kuja out of embarrassment, but perhaps the other’s ambition would blind him to Zidane’s behavior. If his suspicions about their relationship were true, and he really hoped they weren’t, he could only question his judgement for getting involved with such a cocky blowhard. Perhaps it was a bit late for that, seeing as how the thief had shamelessly indulged in the sensual company of Kuja’s doppelgänger without much of a fight.

Finding himself distracted once again by thoughts of his unknown connection to Kuja, Zidane scolded himself mentally and tried to pay attention to the next phase of their quest for victory. This really wasn’t the time to be lusting over the glide of glassy lips against his...

Well, that didn’t take long.

Having done his best to tend to his bruises, Zidane stood to his feet and peered over at Kuja. It was strange to see him talking to the others without the scowl of disapproval he always had... or maybe Kuja only had that look on his face while staring at him? The thought annoyed Zidane for some reason. Then again Kuja had always rubbed him the wrong way, so annoyance wasn’t exactly new. At the moment though, it made more sense to pay attention to what Kuja was saying rather than worry about something like that. Kuja had done nothing but help thus far.

One of these days however, Zidane was going to follow him and find out what he was up to. Until such a time that Zidane wasn’t too busy getting his ass kicked or being apprehended by his Manikin ‘friend’, he’d have to settle for making a mental note of this plan. There was so much to worry about and Kuja was far down on the list of his priorities. The most important thing was making sure the forces of evil in this world were stamped out.

While Zidane never questioned his role among the warriors of Cosmos, or how imperative it was to keep all of his friends safe, it would be so nice to just forget about all of it for a day or two. He knew it was selfish to even entertain the idea; everyone was likely feeling the same way, and yet they all pressed on regardless of how hard it was on them.

Oh, crap. Kuja was looking straight at him. Had Zidane still been staring at him this whole time? 

Zidane panicked and ungracefully skittered away in the first direction that presents itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update soon if I get some good feedback. I have more chapters ready to go. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to Visceralrose! <3 Am I treating your boi Maniku right, or what? :V

“Alright! We did it!” Zidane cheered with enthusiasm, turning around entirely with a single hop, one hand lifted in the air for a high five. His Manikin assassin simply stared at Zidane, gleaming, empty eyes boring deep into his soul as he stood among the sizzling remains of his enemies.

Not exactly the reaction he was looking for.

“Uh… come on, like this. Hand up!” he encouraged it by waving his hand, seemingly excited when the doppelgänger peered at its own hand and mimicked him. At least it could learn something-- so that was nice. Being notably taller than Zidane, he had to hop up to hit its hand in celebration of their victory. Kuja’s Manikin apparently didn’t appreciate the gesture, or maybe just didn’t quite understand the point of getting its hand slapped, and so it reacted by gripping the thief’s hand in response and twisting it harshly behind him.

“Owww! Hey! Let go!” he hissed, yanking himself away the second the Manikin let up. Zidane shook his sore hand and frowned at him. “Geeze! You really are like Kuja…” he grumbled for a moment, looking him over judgmentally. It appeared that it would be tougher than he thought teaching this Manikin how not to be a stick in the mud. Also it would probably be a good idea not to ever try that with the real Kuja.

“I’ll let that slide since you showed these guys what for.” Zidane clarified, tail swishing about. “But you really ought to lighten up.” Zidane wasn’t entirely sure the Manikin had even learned to understand him all that well, but he’d never felt comfortable being a quiet person, anyhow… that and it would be mean to just ignore it all the time. Feeling a little offended that his gesture hadn’t gone over so well, Zidane continued on.

The area was unfamiliar to him, so he thought maybe it would take some time to go through the majority of it looking for a crystal. It was a grand palace of some kind, unlike anything Zidane had ever seen. He wondered how lucky someone must be to live in such a nice place, especially in a world where the threat of being killed wasn’t a problem. Turning to the Manikin, Zidane realized he’d never even tried to ask about the location of the crystal to save time.

“Do you know where I can find a crystal? Uh… it’s about ye big...” he illustrated with his hands.

For a moment he thought he wouldn’t get anything out of it, but the Manikin raised a hand to it’s chin delicately, as if in thought. Finally some progress! Maybe it could understand him after all? Zidane was a little distracted by the subtle, if not eerie similarity to Kuja’s mannerisms, wondering just how accurate a copy this creature was. With a dramatic flourish, it pointed up the impressive stairway nearby towards the doors at the top.

Now it was just starting to get creepy.

“Really?!” he asked excitedly, impressed by his change of luck. “Yes!”

Zidane high-tailed it up the steps and rushed to the door, opening it with little more than push with his shoulder. Inside was a massive hall lined with glowing lamps for as long as the eye could see. He walked inside, thinking for a moment that he was seeing things. It didn’t seem real, more like a dream come to life. Some strange glitch of a memory made real, perhaps? Not that he had much time to think about it before his annoyance set in.

Empty.

There was absolutely nothing but an echo in this place, much less a crystal. 

The sound of Kuja’s mocking, distorted laugh echoed down the endless hall as cold fingers curled around and ran up along Zidane’s tail.

“Oh, real funny!” he complained, turning to glare. “I really thought I was gonna find one!”

Zidane’s angry face was promptly seized with a clawed hand, and with a victorious hum the door was willed shut behind them. Before he knew it, Zidane had been harshly pinned against the nearest surface, knocking the air out of him. He hated to admit it, but his blood was already burning in anticipation; he knew what the other craved.

“Hnn… been biding your time, huh?”

Maybe it really was awfully selfish to want to forget all of the responsibilities outside that room… but it’d only be for a little while.

The thief moaned as his vest was forcefully ripped open. He wasn’t sure where this bout of aggression was coming from, seeing as how it had been seemingly docile towards him all this time, but he couldn’t say he hated the way it bit his lower lip; not even when it drew blood.

Zidane cried out in pain, pulling back instinctively only to hit his head against the wall with a thud. His momentary dizziness wasn’t nearly strong enough to distract him from the comforting lick to his wound. Zidane really hated that the Manikin was so good at this game, chasing its tongue in frustration and capturing it with his own.

Somehow, amid all of the writhing and shared moans, Zidane had been freed from his pants. He was already painfully stiff, eager to sink it into those sinful lips-- only to find himself lifted and pinned to the wall. Zidane curled his legs around the Manikin’s waist and clung to its shoulders, feeling the cold press of its cock against his own. He almost didn’t want to look, but he was too turned on to ignore his curiosity.

Whimpering with barely contained titillation, Zidane couldn’t help but feel just a little bit jealous. Apparently Kuja was... impressively endowed. It wasn’t enough to be tall and unfairly beautiful for a man; he had to go and be bigger, too. If Kuja ever found out about these prying moments of weakness, Zidane would be vaporized by Ultima in a second. Damn, he really didn’t want to think about it… 

He was grateful then for the distracting dance of hips that induced a pleasurable friction between them, yet Zidane was already craving an even more intimate embrace; preferably one that could help him forget about Kuja for a while. The thief’s soft, golden tail coiled around their cocks and squeezed tight as he gripped onto the other’s shoulders for support.

It only took them a few moments to find the most pleasurable position between their bodies, and once they had, Zidane found himself loudly announcing his approval.

“Ahhnn~! Ahhhnn…!”

The way Kuja’s Manikin moved was blissfully intense. Strong hips thrusts repeatedly and the cool touch of his crystal body felt incredible against Zidane’s hot skin. Sweet, desperate moans tumbled freely against the Manikin’s mouth between feverish bites. Tasting the Manikin like that was frustratingly enjoyable, too. At times it played a little too hard to get, which would be more fun in the end if the slick surface of its tongue carried some warmth for him to savor.

Just thinking of just how hot Kuja’s mouth might be in comparison had Zidane so lost in pleasure that his orgasm came without warning, a shaky cry tearing through him as he unleashed spurts of cum all over their hardened dicks. Zidane was more than pleased as his body went limp with satisfaction and he hung lazily off the other’s shoulders. Even his tail uncoiled and swayed with appreciative bliss. He would just have to forgive himself for letting his mind wander in the heat of the moment, though… 

The thief had made a mess of the two of them, sighing as he shakily climbed down from his sensual perch on the Manikin’s hips. Feeling thoroughly spent, Zidane peered up at it and lamented the cold, unfeeling stare of its eyes. It was impossible to tell if the Manikin was getting anything out of this, pleasure or otherwise. Maybe he shouldn’t even care? Admittedly, that would be too selfish even for Zidane..

“Was it good for you, too?” Zidane asked jokingly, his light snickering trailing in confusion after a curious squeeze to his arm nabbed his attention. “Hey…? What gives?”

Crystal hands encouraged Zidane to turn around, pulling their bodies close together with the thief’s back against the cool crystal surface of the Manikin’s chest, touching along Zidane’s belly as he bit lightly against his ear lobe. It tickled more than it hurt, making Zidane squirm and laugh lightly, distracting him from hands that wandered lower and worked his pants down his hips. 

“That’s tickling me…” he hummed, hissing lightly as his cock was unexpectedly teased. “E-Easy…” he pleaded, far too sensitive to enjoy that kind of stroking just yet. His companion was certainly getting bolder with his touch, sending clawed fingers down his chest and stomach until it left a trail of tender, red streaks; only Zidane didn’t mind at all. Just feeling the bite of teeth against his neck had him in a near moan. Soon he would find that he had been far too distracted for his own good.

Without the slightest warning, Zidane was shoved face first against the wall with the same merciless force as before, only this time it sparked anger. “I said ‘easy’, jackass!” he snapped, yelping sharply as his hair was gripped and twisted, forcing his cheek against the wall in apparent retaliation.

Kuja’s Manikin hummed with dismissive triumph, its free hand stroking Zidane’s spent cum all over its hard dick. Zidane had already tried in vain to move, but he was met with a discouraging, painful twist of his hair every time.

“Grrragh! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He was ignored as the Manikin caressed the sun-kissed skin of Zidane’s hip, brushing its glossy lips against the shell of his ear to titter wickedly. With a single, languid thrust, it began to guide and force its cock inside, an agonized scream tearing through the hall. Icy hips slapped firmly against his ass once every inch had claimed him, pained bleating marking a sudden inability to move. Zidane’s ear was licked enticingly even as the thief hissed and panted in obvious pain, something that seemed of little concern otherwise. He was given but a few merciful seconds to realize what had just happened before the thrusting began.

The sting of Zidane’s scalp had been forgotten amid the agony of being penetrated. All of that sensual aggression that he had thoughtlessly lusted for was now a source of misery. He could feel every inch of the Manikin’s glassy cock claiming him, forcing the air from his lungs in pained yelps. Tears clung to his lashes as he gritted his teeth, his tail fruitlessly gripping the Manikin’s hips in an effort to ease his merciless thrusts.

Once Kuja’s Manikin had confidence in its complete control over Zidane, those thrusts eventually evolved into a firm, fluid roll of its hips. Zidane’s body was still shaking from the initial pain, but it was the escape of an unexpectedly sensual whimper that inspired a particularly possessive, resonating growl from the Manikin. Something forbidden and deep had been awakened by the tease of that long cock being forced inside him.

Such a sound of submission was rewarded with the removal of the tight grip in Zidane’s hair, an action that left the Manikin’s hands free to claw at the thief’s body.

Zidane’s body was wrecked and yet he could already feel familiar heat building up inside him. His knees shook as strained cries of approval were forced out of him with unyielding thrusts. Kuja’s Manikin was as cruel as he was gifted, leaving Zidane wallowing in a confusing mess of pleasure and pain. It wasn’t long before his own hips had joined in a shared, needy rhythm. 

“Mmnnn, Kuja…”

If he weren’t on the verge of another intense orgasm, Zidane might have been mortified by that slip of tongue. Though in the midst of their moaning and sharp slaps of skin against crystal, the thief found that he couldn’t stop saying it. That name rolled off his tongue in the form of a desperate plea, and for a moment it even felt alarmingly natural.

Maybe he’d turned it on with all the begging, or maybe it was the way Zidane had begun dancing beneath him to guide his cock into just the right spot inside him; either way, he’d set it off and inspired a sensual response. Its voice was strained with pleasure, a revelation that had Zidane quick to whimper and cum with visible intensity. Kuja’s Manikin hadn’t let up with his forceful fucking, seemingly intent on breaking Zidane’s smaller body even while it finally met its own pleasurable orgasm. Clawing at the wall for support, Zidane could feel himself being filled with the Manikin’s thick cum.

The moan of satisfaction that left Kuja’s Manikin had Zidane’s tail bristling; it was all measure of sensual and indulgent. Zidane was shivering against the support of the wall, feeling the slow crawl of cum that had dribbled out of him even before Kuja’s Manakin had made any effort to pull out. It really was the worst kind of show off.

Thoroughly pleased with itself, Kuja’s Manikin finally freed himself and left Zidane feeling an uncomfortable emptiness. With a sore whine, Zidane gathered himself and inwardly cursed the damned jerk for nearly tearing him in half. Fumbling in a sated stupor, he pulled his pants up and groaned lightly at the stickiness he felt. He’d have to find somewhere to shower after that mess; and it was a mess. Clear, iridescent cum had somehow managed to drip onto his tail...

“D-Don’t look at me like that.” Zidane pleaded uselessly. Even if Kuja’s Manakin had clearly enjoyed itself, that dead stare was going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update soon if I get some good feedback. I have more chapters ready to go. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Time was an irrelevant construct in that world it seemed. If he weren’t actively with his friends, Zidane couldn’t be certain time was even passing at all; it honestly felt like he was existing in a single moment that was dragging on without end. Between realms of course, the sky and time of day could change in an instant yet remained static.

Zidane couldn’t find a reliable way to discern how long it had been since he’d seen the Manikin.

It felt like an age.

At that point, Zidane thought him long dead. One of the others had likely taken the Manikin out, not that he could blame them. Manikins were inherently dangerous, after all. Needless to say, he felt terrible about it-- and what made it worse was that he didn’t feel bad for the reasons he thought he should. Even if Zidane knew the day of his destruction was coming, things between them should have just remained a harmless exercise in pleasure; yet he’d allowed the pushy bastard to grow on him— _just a little_.

In any case, he didn’t exactly have time to lament the loss of his playmate, superficial as the harmless relationship had been. Several of his teammates had also met their end at the hand of the enemy. Life in that world was more miserable than ever. They had been doing so well, only for it to fall apart so quickly…

Perhaps it was the sour look upon his face that had garnered attention—or maybe how he was staring a hold through the landscape with his eyes.

“Zidane, are you alright?” he heard Terra’s voice, her angelic tone just what he needed to distract him from his thoughts.

“I’m fine…” Zidane replied unconvincingly.

“I hope you got all that… we can’t lose hope, right?”

He hadn’t gotten any of it. He wasn’t even listening.

“You’re right… things are tough for everyone right now, but I _know_ we can do it.” He replied, hoping his usual spark of optimism was enough to distract from his apathetic fatigue.

“Kuja says we have them on the run now. I want more than anything to put an end to this. Stay close to us, Zidane.”  
  
He nodded in agreement, wondering if Kuja had said something to her. He was the only one who seemed to notice or care about his wanderings, in any case. Then again, maybe he hadn’t been as stealthy as he had hoped, after all. The others had already concluded their gathering and begun to spread out, and Zidane stood to his feet.

“Lead the way, Terra.”

As usual, Zidane noticed that Kuja was nowhere to be seen, though he suspected he was hard at work spying on the enemy. He’d like to think Kuja was the reason they had escaped death so many times thus far, even if by all accounts he looked at Zidane like he wanted to strangle him. Why, he had no idea, and he didn’t want to find out. Zidane would never understand him.

With their groups now in order, the warriors moved to their next place of battle. Had Zidane been paying attention, he might have heard just how Kuja had learned of that place. With the help of the Moogle, the journey was a short one; but one he doubted any of them had truly prepared for. Just beyond the edge of the cliff where they had appeared was a large gathering of their enemies. Zidane could feel it in his gut that mayhem and chaos were going to ensue; but he wasn’t really one for playing a coward.

The rallying cry of his companions stirred Zidane into action; and it was with that stroke of luck that they had managed to surprise their enemies.

The Warriors of Chaos were no pushovers; in fact they were a collection of the absolute worst kind of enemies to have. Their ilk craved blood and destruction; the more destruction they could cause, the more fervent they became. How people like them were allowed to exist was beyond his understanding, and the battlefield wasn’t the place to ponder upon it. No, he was going to focus on destroying every one of them he could.

Lacking in strength, Zidane had already learned rather quickly that he was best suited for causing confusion among them. He was swift like the wind, appearing before one contender and the next for a deadly slash of his weapons before making his exit. Assisting the others in their efforts was paying off, and he hadn’t even broken a sweat!

Leaping high, Zidane threw his arms back to prepare for a mighty attack, only for the landscape below to suddenly glow an eerie purple; it lit up the area like a bolt of lightning, the heat of it already searing his back. Whatever was coming was directly behind him. In the moment it took him to turn, mighty columns of light came shooting out in all directions, including in his own.

The last thing he remembered was the searing pain in his arms as he shielded his face from the incoming blast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to hell! :D Please leave a comment? <3


	8. Chapter 8

Being dead wasn’t really that bad. In fact, it felt pretty good.

Zidane couldn’t remember the last time he felt so little; and it was oddly comforting. No aches, no fatigue. Just the immense weight of his own body and the breeze against his face.

 _Wait_ …

The sensation had already begun to stir him from his unconsciousness, and thus began Zidane’s gradual descent into confusion. He suddenly felt the warmth of a spell tingling at his skin, the heaviness of his limbs growing with every second he became more aware. Unsure of what to make of the sensation, Zidane’s eyes managed to open gradually. Before him was a blurry mess of color and not much more; not a sound or a decent source of light to be seen.

Zidane was hardly aware of the light throbbing in his head when the sensation of fingers coursing through his hair grounded him in a slowly emerging reality.

Apparently he wasn’t dead… which was _mildly_ disappointing.

Taking a moment to gather himself, Zidane blinked away the haziness in his vision and looked towards the only other occupant in the room. He felt far too lethargic to be startled by the light drag of nails against his scalp, nor the proximity to his person.

“ _Wow_ … where the hell have you been?” he groaned out miserably.

Zidane was in no position to wonder how or why he was suddenly in the company of his Manikin friend once again, or even why its dead, lifeless stare brought him the slightest sliver of happiness. In that moment, all he could really bring himself to do was to try and get a grasp of his senses after being out of it so long. After gathering himself for a moment, Zidane attempted to lift himself up, only to be pushed back down by his chest.

“ _Maniku_ , come on~!” he whined, “I’m fine, really. Lemme up.”

Whenever Zidane spoke to it, he wasn’t really ever sure whether or not it could understand him fully; but in that moment it seemed to concede and moved aside so he could try and stand on his own. Maniku also didn’t bother helping Zidane steady himself either.

Peering around, Zidane couldn’t recognize where they were, only that it was quite dimly lit. Torches here and there, perfectly cut stone walls, mirror-like marble floors. It felt familiar in a way he couldn’t describe, but like always, he couldn’t quite grasp at any of his memories.

“Always saving my ass, huh…” he mused as he leaned against the wall, eyes looking over the stoic Manikin with relief. “Please tell me the others are safe?”

No answer, of course. It hardly spoke—and only ever to tease him relentlessly.

Zidane sighed and motioned for the Manikin to come closer, finding difficulty in moving much for the moment. Once he had wandered close enough, the thief reached out and tugged it even closer by the glassy edges of its jacket.

“ _Jerk_ … I thought they had killed you, ya know…”

Despite everything else and the fact that he felt a little like death warmed over, Zidane was genuinely happy to see that the Manikin was alive. Silent though it was, the thief couldn’t help but lean against its body and enjoy the nearness of someone else without the threat of battle being a factor. Both of his hands rested against the other’s hips to steady himself, finding it far more comfortable than the wall.

“I wanna check on the others, but I can barely move right now. Laying there made me sore all over. Think you can help?”

Given his size, maybe Zidane shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was lifted with so much ease a moment later. He yelped in surprise, wrapping his arms around the Manikin’s neck for some stability as he was carried off with ease. Though the halls became eerily dark in some places, it continued on with purpose. Zidane wondered how it knew this place so well. Had it been pacing about waiting for him to wake up?

Their journey ended once the Manikin had found a proper place to set Zidane down to rest; a gaudy bed far too big for even five people his own size to occupy. Why it hadn’t left him in this comfy spot to begin with, he could not say—maybe death really had been more imminent than he’d realized?

“Thanks…” he managed groggily, feeling somewhat conflicted. Not about the way it utterly disregarded his appreciative remark or stood stoically before him with an intense glare. Zidane couldn’t stand the thought that his friends were hurt out there, but he was also happy that Maniku was with him and somehow kept him alive—or why he even cared either way.

Zidane’s hand reached out and rested against the glossy surface of the Manikin’s stomach, trailing down until he held the hem of his codpiece within his fingers for a gentle tug towards him. “You’re really messing with my head…” he complained lightly. Zidane thought he was a terrible person for what he was feeling in that moment; he craved a more intimate reunion even though he should be out there trying to rescue his friends.

Maybe _he_ was the real jerk...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would miss Maniku, too. :(


	9. Chapter 9

Zidane couldn’t possibly be that selfish, he assured himself as he gripped the Manikin before him and stood on his feet. He needed to get out of there and find the others; if there was anyone left, any survivors at all, it was his responsibility to look out for them after all. Pushing past despite the poor condition of his own body, Zidane made towards the door in a hurry.

“Ugh! I can’t stay here—they’re probably hurt..!”

No sooner had he uttered that phrase, he felt a violent grip upon his vest that threw him roughly back onto the bed. An audible wince left him, feeling every sore part of him protest all at once, Zidane glared at his crystalline betrayer with frustration. 

“Are you deaf? I gotta go find the others!” he protested loudly, to no avail. Maniku had apparently already written him off, strolling towards the exit dismissively. “Where the heck are you going? Wait!” he called out scrambling pathetically from the bed and hobbling over as quickly as he could manage towards the door. He was several feet away when the double doors were slammed shut, leaving him not only alone, but helplessly trapped.

“Idiot! Let me out or I’ll kick this door down!”

All he heard in response was the glassy footsteps of his companion walking away without a care. It only got him angier somehow, far more than silence might have. He couldn’t understand why the damn thing was always so intent on keeping tabs, especially at a time like this. Maybe this was his punishment for even entertaining the idea of staying in the first place?

Kicking the door with as much of his strength as possible, Zidane growled and stumbled back over to where he had been and sat down heavily. He hated feeling useless, but worse, he hated knowing that the others might need him and he was stuck here. If he didn’t do something now, he would never be able to rest.

Zidane peered around, trying to find something that may help him escape. The room evoked an ember of a memory, tugging at a hidden part of his mind insistently. It was familiar, enveloping him in a slow churning of thought and distant emotion. Zidane sank into the bed and stared at the ceiling, oddly enough at a reflection of himself, feeling lost and increasingly lonely. He had decided after some time that he did not like this place at all; that maybe some things were better left forgotten.

Although he was in bad shape and feeling out of sorts, Zidane was not willing to merely give up on leaving. He wasn’t about to let a Manikin, of all things, make a complete fool out of him. The doors were too heavy to break down in his condition, so he would wait for Maniku to return so he could make swift escape. If he took advantage of the down time, maybe he would feel well enough to actually succeed?

With such a short term goal in mind, Zidane closed his eyes and let the hours pass in blissfull slumber. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept; oh, but his body needed it. By the time he’d come out of it, it almost felt like months had passed—the best quality sleep a guy could ask for! Zidane had been woken by the unexpected creaking of a door, leading his heavy eyes to open and a loud, obnoxious yawn to escape his lips. After a short, painful, yet much needed stretch, Zidane propped himself up on his elbows and regarded his captor with very little enthusiasm.

“You gonna let me out, yet?”

Maniku walked towards him, waving a hand in the air and forcing the doors shut behind him.

Where the hell had he learned that, again?

“Guess not. Just leave if you’re gonna be a jerk!” Zidane insisted, twisting himself into the blanket. He stewed for only a moment when he’d suddenly remembered the brilliant plan he had concocted before falling asleep. If he was going to get out of there, he may just have to play nice long enough to distract Maniku.

Following a hallow thrum of giggling, Zidane’s entire spine danced with the slow crawl of a shiver. Maniku had managed to find the tip of Zidane’s tail protruding from the covers and had begun scratching the bristled fur delightfully with his nails.

“Stop that…” his muffled command drifted from under the sheets to no avail. Actually, on second thought it felt great… so he’d let it pass for now. It also didn’t hurt that he could use the moment to his advantage, either. Zidane threw the covers away in a huff and glared, tail twitching in the Manikin’s grasp.

“You really don’t care when you piss me off, do you?”

He knew the answer, but he got his reply nonetheless when the other crawled over him and pinned his wrists. Zidane’s tail swayed about angrily as the Manikin neared and forced a possessive kiss upon his lips. Though he responded with a displeased growl, the sound only inspired the invasion of a slippery tongue into his mouth to silence him. Zidane bit in protest, only to be pinned aggressively with Maniku’s hips. Though he struggled against his heavier captor, Zidane’s wrists only managed to become free by the willing surrender of the other’s grip; a fact that only served to remind him of just how little it regarded his strength.

Their feverish display was contradictory as to why Zidane had been resting in the first place; but it seemed that neither one of them cared anymore.

Despite every painful protest his body had to offer, Zidane was already trying to wriggle out of his clothing, and his possessive captor was all too eager to assist. Every bite devolved quickly into a hungry, forceful kiss; in their lust it was difficult to tell who might devour the other first. By the time Maniku had withdrawn to shrug off his garb, Zidane was left red faced and furious.

“I’m not your prisoner.” he insisted, eyeing with desire the shimmering body before him, tail swaying as he watched the other freeing his hardened dick. As the Manikin moved closer once more, Zidane met him with an eager lashing of tongues. Unwilling to deny Maniku any longer, the thief began positioning himself onto his belly, lifting his golden tail with an inviting moan as he was spread open for the taking.

Maniku must have delighted in the view, allowing Zidane a moment to anticipate their union with a teasing press against the taught ring of flesh eagerly awaiting him. It was only once he’d earned a shivering, needy purr that Zidane was rewarded with what he desire; complete and swift penetration down to the thick hilt of the Manikin’s cock. The air left the thief’s lungs in the form of a grateful yelp, golden tail bristling in pleasure. 

Only after Zidane began to be fucked aggressively into the bed did he remember just how sore all over he really was. Distractions however were numerous; pleasure overwhelming, the sound of their bodies meeting, the taste of Maniku’s skin as he bit into his arm desperately. Already Zidane could feel the other’s precum dripping and clinging to his own stiff cock, inspiring a needy cry and a feverish thrusting against the silky sheets. That must have set Maniku off, for in an instant he had yanked Zidane’s face to the side by his hair and thrust with all his might, pinning him and holding still.

It was, after all, just the two of them here to indulge each other.

“Mmn… all yours.” he managed through the pain of the other’s grip.

The sound that escaped Maniku following his words was indescribable; some desirous song that rumbled and made him shiver; but even more importantly, inspired a most intense dance of hips that had Zidane crying pleasurably under the comforting press of Maniku’s weight above him. The desperate search for release was just what the two of them needed most, culminating in Zidane being filled to bursting with his Manikin’s iridescent cum while he unloaded ribbons of his own thickened desire among the sheets. 

Driven to painful sensitivity, It wasn’t until Zidane was whimpering and struggling against the discomfort did the thrusting end and the spent Mankikin collapse on top of him in a heap.

Keenly aware of the throbbing dick still inside him, Zidane moaned lightly as he tried to catch his breath and accepted this fate willingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to make an effort to update more regularly.
> 
> I hope all of you are staying safe and healthy. :)
> 
> Please leave a comment or a kudos, they make me really happy!


	10. Chapter 10

Maniku was seemingly in his own world. He lay sprawled comfortably, chirring and trilling quietly to himself among the sheets. Zidane was near to him, staring at the scene before him reflected on the ceiling, red faced and twiddling his hands together idly near his belly. While it was true that he’d never once seen the Manikin act like this before, something else far more pressing had ensnared his attention—as well as his person.

Among their bodies lay a coiled mess of tails insistently constricting one another; twitching and patting against the sheets every so often to break the illusion of serene moment. This was another revelation Zidane did not have the time not the desire to think about. Lazing about purring in throws of an afterglow was one thing, but the presence of a tail was something else altogether, wasn’t it?

Zidane was as still as he could be as he rest against the glassy body of his protector, thinking to himself that this was probably the best moment, if there ever was one, to sneak away. His eyes peered over nervously, noting the calm that had overcome the Manikin. It didn’t make sense that he could possibly be sleepy or even tired; although for all Zidane knew, perhaps he was in the throws of some intoxicating memory.

Lingering guilt began to emerge at the thought. Taking advantage of this being’s instincts and memories was probably more fucked up than anything else that had happened in this awful place… no matter how intensely enjoyable it was for the both of them.

Zidane decided to move then, twisting his body to the side so he could crawl off the bed. The door wasn’t too far off, unlocked, and Maniku was hopefully too enamored with whatever he was doing to notice. Unfortunately for Zidane, before he had even attempted his seemingly straightforward plot to escape and find the others, Maniku had taken the movement as an invitation to pin him with the weight of his own body.

Zidane growled in what would have been frustration had it not been for the calming tough of hands along his stomach.

“I’m leaving. I’m going to find my friends.” Zidane insisted, squirming against his touch and the squeeze of his tail. 

“Hmph.” was Zidane’s reply as his dick was teased. Maniku had every plan in the world to keep him captive willingly by the lure of pleasure, it seemed. Zidane was hard with embarrassing swiftness, a fact that the Manikin clearly delighted in based on the teasing laughter that emanated from deep in his chest.

After being guided onto his back once more, Zidane shivered in anticipation as he watched the Manikin biting down along his belly. 

“A-After this, for sure this time...” Zidane sighed, already resigned to another pleasurable, guilt-riddled tryst with his companion. “You’ll let me go, right?”

“Mmhmm.” he apparently agreed while taking Zidane deep into his mouth.

Content with their agreement and the pleasurable skill in which Zidane had now fallen victim, the thief fisted his grip in Maniku’s hair and utterly melted. As badly as he wanted it to be over with, he knew it felt far too good to let pass so quickly. Maniku’s mouth felt so slick and inviting that Zidane couldn’t help but reward him with the cute moans he clearly desired. 

There was something about the way Maniku’s tongue pressed and his tail squeezed that had Zidane so pliant and willing. Having been swallowed so thoroughly would have anyone’s senses reeling, but only Maniku could make the threat of a bite so alluring. Zidane could feel the way his teeth tugged at his flesh, temporary pain that inspired helpless yelps, but lasting just long enough to make the thief’s body sing.

It was only after the addition of two forceful fingers that Zidane realized his will was not to last much longer. Maniku had taken every inch of Zidane’s cock while relentlessly kneading some lewd part of him deep inside without mercy; it was no wonder then that he was soon rewarded with a broken cry and a mouthful of sweet cum.

He shook and lamented that Maniku was getting so much better at this game of theirs.

Blue eyes turned to watch the Manikin withdraw, cum sticking to his lips and gathered with a sweep of tongue. Perching himself seductively, Maniku invitingly stroked his own stiff cock and giggled at him coyly. 

Although he watched with interest for the moments it took his lust to subside, Zidane eventually scrambled up, red faced and annoyed, an accusatory tone in his voice.

“N-No, you said…!” he reminded the Manikin, gathering up his clothes in a hurry. The sight must have been amusing, because the other had made no efforts to stop him, only trilling at Zidane teasingly as he pulled his pants up and stumbled towards the door.

“You’re not funny, you know…!” Zidane snapped back at him indignantly as he opened the door, “Stay there and I’ll—you know, be back—eventually?”

Without turning his back to the sneaky Manikin, Zidane slipped outside the door with a relieved sigh. His body was still tingling, knees weak and tail happily twitching on its own accord. For a brief moment he considered going back in as he watched Maniku posing expectantly like a tease—he was the worst, Zidane had decided, groaning in self-imposed disappointment as he spun around to leave.

The air was knocked out of him as he ran right into hard crystal, pain gripping him as he reeled for a moment and gathered himself. Peering up, he was greeted with the cold, glassy stare of none other than Maniku himself.

No wait—

The echo of cruel, amused laughter rang out from the other room, causing Zidane to turn and witness Maniku still in bed, poised with a hand at of his mouth, spinning once more toward the Manikin that had been in the hall.

“Who the hell are you?!” the thief bristled in shock before his hair was seized with furious, palpable displeasure. Crying out in pain, Zidane was forcefully dragged away, crystal footsteps ringing out harshly through the hall. The more he tried to escape from the other’s grip, the worse the pain imposed upon him got.

“Idiot! Help me!” Zidane shrieked out to Maniku to no avail—he didn’t bother coming to save him this time, inexplicably and alarmingly so.

If he ever got out of this mess, Zidane was going to kick his ass.

Upon reaching his captor’s destination, Zidane was cast down violently, his already injured body wrecked with pain as he yelped and curled against his mistreatment. The sound of iron slamming shut had Zidane darting his head about trying to figure out what had just happened. Scrambling up, he struggled against thick iron slats that he found himself suddenly surrounded by; he had been thrown in a cage; not even tall enough to properly stand inside.

Sharp eyes regarded him with malice, disappointment, and all manner of piercing negativity they could muster. It was alarming as it was impossible. Zidane had not thought a Manikin capable of conveying such displeasure.

“Let me out you damn creep! You can’t keep me in here!” he beat angrily at the cage, unable to garner any kind of reaction from his captor.

“Jackass!” he spat as the other merely turned away, feet kicking in an effort to open the door to no avail. Only after the door to the unfamiliar room slammed shut and he exhausted himself did Zidane slump down miserably. 

What had he just gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Manikin appears? But who is this mysterious but equally handsome fellow? :V
> 
> Special thanks as always to VisceralRose who inspires the bulk of this delicious tale. Maniku wouldn't even exist without her brilliant ideas. :V
> 
> Please leave a comment of a kudos, they make my day.


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